


The Birds in the Trees

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holmes Brothers' Childhood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wooo!, although there's really not that much hurt, summermystradeexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three bits cut out of the Mystrade arc. It is pretty fluffy and it also offers my response to when people hate on Mycroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birds in the Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blahey123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blahey123/gifts).



> Written for doctorshag.tumblr.com as part of the summer mystrade exchange 2k14. They wanted fluff with no suicide, so here it is. I hope it's alright.  
> Beta-d by the amazing hlocnr

The birds were drowning in the trees and Greg Lestrade was drowning in his thoughts. It was a typical British summer day (in that it was raining as though God was attempting to cleanse the earth of our sins; rather fruitlessly, Greg felt).

His divorce had come through that morning and Greg was as pissed as an American on St. Patrick’s day. He kicked a tree in frustration but that only resulted in a sore toe and he sort of hopped about grasping it in a vain attempt to ease the pain. And then the downpour, the continuous never ending onslaught of rain, stopped.

“Are you all right Detective Inspector? You appear to be in pain,” The relief of Mycroft’s umbrella washed over him and he fell against Sherlock’s brother, his tears getting sort of smeared on Mycroft’s shoulder (He was pissed after all), “Ah, apparently not. Would you like to come indoors? My lodging’s at Kensington are a mere five minutes walk from here and I should not like to leave you out here in this state. I take it your divorce came through? Ah, I thought so; would you like to talk about it?”

**Three Years Later**

The birds were smiling in the trees and Greg Lestrade was smiling in his thoughts. He also held a smile on his face; the sun was out and it shone gloriously, dappling on the ground with the shade of the trees.

“Greg!” John shouted from the same bench that Greg had hopped about swearing three years ago to the day.

“John,” Greg grinned and walked over.

“Why did you want to meet me?”

“I-I have something to say and then something to ask,”

“Okay...” John paused but when it was obvious that Greg wasn’t going to say anything more he added, “spit it out,”

“Right, yes, I’m-I’m getting married,”

“Oh, wow. Congratulations, I didn’t even realise you were dati-,”

“Hold up, I’m not finished yet. And I would like you to be my best man,”

John gaped, “Really? Me? Surely there’s someone better than me. I mean, I’d love to but what about your brother?”

“He died two years ago,”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,”

“It's fine, like I said; it's been three years. Anyway, the only reason I didn’t tell you because, well, It was just after Sherlock’s... you know.”

“right, but that only shows how little we've talked over the last two years, I didn't even know your brother had died for God's sake; surely you would be better off with, I don’t know, I'm dammned if I'm going to suggest Anderson but you could have Sherlock even. He was a brilliant best man at my wedding.”

“Yeah, but he can’t be both of our best men,” John looked at Greg with puzzlement; it was almost as though Sherlock were actually there being infuriatingly cryptic as usual,

“Hold on, who are you marrying then?”

“Mycroft Holmes.”

John burst out laughing, “The ice man? God he can be so creepy, you know he kidna- Shit you’re not joking are you?”

“Yeah, no. I’m marrying Mycroft Holmes.”

“But, well no offence, he has no boundaries! Surely it's not a very healthy relationship, he just can't stop meddling in things that don't concern him, it's almost stalker behaviour,”

“John, I’m going to tell you a story. There once was a very lonely, isolated little 7 year old that was far more intelligent than many adults even and then he got company in a tiny little baby brother. He promised that he would never ever let anything bad happen to him. He practically brought up his brother on his own and then he went to university and he was given the chance of his dream career.

“For the first time he had a purpose other than his baby brother and he threw himself into his work. But then his baby brother got bored. The little boy’s work grew harder and harder and so did the drugs his baby brother was taking. And then the little boy, who was not so little any more, heard that his baby brother had overdosed. As he sat by his baby brother he blamed himself and promised he would never let anything like this ever happen ever again. It was hard, his baby brother no longer doted on him and the little boy wasn’t the only who blamed himself for his brother’s condition for his family did so too, including his baby brother.

“Gradually, the little boy’s persistence payed off and his brother was clean, but he had forbade himself from ever letting his brother slip again. So is it any surprise that Mycroft watches over Sherlock constantly? You know, one time when Sherlock was high as the Eiffel tower he told Mycroft explicitly that it was his fault, My doesn’t think Sherlock remembers but I don't think Mycroft could ever forget, he gets nightmares about it all and I can't do much else but sort of pat his hair and hold him but he always gets to sleep after that.

“He needs me as much as I needs me just as I need him: he needs someone to care about that won't end up in a hospital bed if he takes his eye off them for just a second; he needs someone to care about that works long hours like him so that they won't be annoyed by his continuous absence; he needs someone who appreciates him and all that he does for them; he needs someone who cares about him who will listen to his problems and to have someone he cares about be willing to share their problems in return; he needs someone who understands the pressures of work and most of all he need someone who understands about Sherlock. And hey, I need him for basically all the same reasons. Besides, he has this really wry gritty dry humour and, I mean, have you seen him?

“Look, all I'm saying is, you've only really seen him through Sherlock's eyes; I'm not trying to make you hate Sherlock, I'm just wanting you to hear both sides of the story and Mycroft would never even think of defending himself against Sherlock's claims because it's important to him that Sherlock doesn't feel guilty. He cares so much about Sherlock, hell, so do I, but Sherlock's not a saint, he has his flaws, as do we all.”

“Greg- I'm so sorry, I just never really thought...”

“Well, to be fair, you were kidnapped. It's quite hard for most people to get past, in fact I think I might be the only one so far. So, look, will you be my best man?”

“Even after I utterly insulted your fiancé?”

“Even after you utterly insulted my fiancé,” replied Greg with a grin.

“Well then, yes, I'd love too. There's no chance Mycroft wouldn't know what I said?”

“Not at all, he predicted it practically word for word last night.”

“Great.”

**Sometime Between**

The birds slept in the trees and Greg Lestrade slept in his bed. Or perhaps slept isn't quite the right world; he sort of slumbered in a half state of sleep.

Mycroft Holmes slipped into the bed room, and carefully put his suit in the wardrobe and clambered into his pyjamas.

“How was Russia?” Greg sort of slurred from the bed,

“You should be asleep,” Mycroft chastised

“Couldn't” Greg gathered all his energy and kind of flumped his arm on Mycroft's side of the bed but Mycroft, as ever, understood the sentiment.

“Russia was utterly rotten. And cold. Words cannot describe how much I despise Putin and snow, so I suppose Russia is somewhat of a perfect storm,” Mycroft said as he gingerly climbed in to bed, “Many murders?”

“Urgh, like you don't already know,”

“I'd still like to here you talk about them,”

“What a lovely partner I have, to ask about murders in bed,” Greg mumbled

“I only ask because it is customa-” Greg placed his finger of Mycroft's

“Yes, I know. Because it is customary to ask your partner how their day is. How many times do I have to tell you I don't care about what is customary?” Greg asked grinning and pulling Mycroft into a hug, “Blimey, Mycroft, you're freezing,”

“I was in Russia”

“You're not anymore,”

“Hush,” mumbled Mycroft against Greg's lips, “I have poor circulation,”

“Hmm,” hummed Greg, more in content than agreement, and despite the remains of Russia on Mycroft's skin they curled up in each others arms (they may as well have literally turned into cats, in fact I don't actually think either would have noticed had they actually done so), “Blimey, Mycroft,” Greg murmured, “I think I may have fallen in love with you,”

“I share your sentiments exactly”

**A Couple of Minutes After**

The birds in the trees were sleeping and Greg Lestrade most certainly was not.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I got a bit off topic with all their childhood stuff but it's really frustrating when people say stuff against Mycroft and I sort of wanted to suggest why he's so “Creepy”. Now I know that season 3 sort of contradicts this view of their parents and child hood, however when Mycroft says I ASiB “I'll be mother” and Sherlock replies “and there is a whole childhood in a nut shell” it sort of suggests a less than idyllic childhood for Mycroft. I was also wandering how Mycroft could have upset Mummy as said in ASiP and I figured she could blame him for the whole drugs thing? I also would like to apologise profusely for making John such a dick, I tried to think of other people to fill the bill but John was the only one who really seemed to work, SORRY.  
> I will probably be adding a how Sherlock found out bit soon


End file.
